


The Caretaker

by keepingeyesclosed



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, M/M, Underfell, Underfell Sans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepingeyesclosed/pseuds/keepingeyesclosed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're so kind. Too sweet for your own good, too selfless for this world.</p><p>How have you even survived this long?</p><p>He hates your unconditional kindness. He can't understand. He wants to dirty your pretty little face.</p><p>But as time goes on, he finds that there's more to you than meets the eye.</p><p>// Underfell!Sans/Reader // Post-barrier // If ya know me, ya know there's gonna be fluff // There will be violence // full-time fanfic // Hope you enjoy! //</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before We Collided

**_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_ **

****

The alarm next to your bed goes off with a hellish buzzing noise, jolting you from your dreamless sleep. You moan and turn over in your covers, hoping that someone would come along and turn off the beeping.

**_BEEP BEEP BEEP_ **

****

It was then that you were reminded that you live alone. You crack an eye open, peeking around your darkened room. Sunlight streams through your curtains, indicating that it’s time to get off your lazy butt and get ready for the day.

**_BEEP BEEP--_ **

“I hear ya, I hear ya.” You rasp out, fumbling through your sheets to reach for your alarm. You slam your hand on top of it, hoping to god that you pressed the snooze button. When the alarm didn’t shut up, you hit your hand on top of it over and over, until finally it fell off your bedstand and hit the ground, unplugging it from its socket _._ Silence filled the room, and you briefly consider going back to sleep. Your eyelids droop…

**Wake me up WAKE ME UP INSIDE~**

Your ringtone goes off and you snap awake immediately. You recognize that ringtone. Your boss set it to Wake Me Up Inside after you showed up late for work for the sixth time. What can you say? Sleeping, eating, and procrastinating are your fortes. You throw off your covers and swing your legs off the side of your bed. You yawn, reaching for your screaming phone. You press “accept call” and put it up to your ear.

“Y’ello?” You mumble, trying to hide your awful case of morning voice.

“Good morning Sugar!” Muffet chirps, bringing on your first of many smiles of the day.

“G’morning Muffs. How are you?” You rub your eye and sit back. You have a gut feeling that this is going to be a long call.

“Oh, I’m doing just fine dearie.” She sighs, “ _Please_ tell me you’re not still in bed.”

Your head nods to the side, the early morning sleepiness still fogging your mind. Although you love your job and Muffet, one of the most difficult tasks of your everyday life is waking up. You are what people classify as “not a morning person”.

“I’m not still in bed.” You repeat to her, swinging your legs back and forth on your bed.

“Really?” Muffet asks, not convinced.

“Yea-AHHHH!” You squeal. You tried to get off your mattress, just to make her happy, but your leg caught in your sheets and you fall over with a loud _thud_.

“(Y/N)? _(Y/N) are you okay?”_ Muffet asks worriedly through the speakerphone.

“Yeah, I just tripped a ‘lil.” You reassure her while you untangle the blankets from your leg and fall down on the ground, spreading yourself like a starfish, “Mmm… What time is it?”

“About 9:30.”

You sit straight up. You didn’t mean to sleep in _this_ late!

“Shoot shoot _shoot!”_ You scramble off the floor, “I’m so sorry Muffs! I’ll be at work in about fifteen minutes.”

“Fuhuhu~, make that twenty, just to be safe.” Muffet giggles, “I don’t want you to show up sleepy-eyed. We have a big commission today, we’re possibly taking on more than we can handle. Actually, scratch that. _You’ll_ be able to handle it, you always seem to pull through with your baking skills.”

“Heheh…” You tuck your phone between your shoulder and your head, stumble to your dresser, and open one of the drawers, “You’re making me blush. But we both know you’re the culinary master here.”

“Aw, (Y/N).” Muffet coos, “You really know how to make a spider happy. But please, do hurry. Like I said, this isn’t a small commission. And it’s for a friend.”

“A friend?” You echo, digging through your drawers for your uniform. Where did you put it last night? You really need to organize your place. You make a mental note to clean up your apartment.

“Mmhm.” Muffet hums, “A friend from the Underground. I’ve told you about Toriel, right? It’s her child’s birthday tomorrow. She ordered _two hundred_ cupcakes, whatever flavors we choose. And, uhm… We have to make it all perfect. Chara is a very sweet kid, but Tori can be a little… Overbearing, per say. Nothing that you can’t handle, of course!” She finishes quickly.

You pause, your hand deep in your sock drawer. _Overbearing?_ You can deal with _overbearing_ people any day. The only problem you have with that statement is that Muffet has a bad habit of not mentioning certain details, avoiding conflict and disagreement. You’ve been trying to break her out of that habit, same way she’s been trying to break you out of bed. You support each other, keep each other functioning. That’s only reason you haven’t lost your job, and she hasn’t lost her bakery. Well, that and you both really enjoy each other’s company.

“Of course.” You smile, and you hear her sigh with relief, “Now… Is there anything else I should know?”

…

“Oh, right!” She says sheepishly, “We’re hosting the party… So we’re gonna have to get the pastry stand. You know, the red striped one? It might be a little dusty, so wiping it down might be a good idea.”

“Okee dokee.” You shut the open drawers and shift the phone to your other ear, “…Anything else coming to mind?”

…

“Tori and possibly a few other people might stop by the shop later today.” Muffet says slowly, “…Like I said, Tori is a little overbearing. As are… A few other people. But I know you can deal with it. Your personality is infectious, I’m sure they’ll love you.”

You can practically feel her smiling through the phone. The fact that she trusts you so much fills you with warmth.

“Alrightio! So I’ll see you--” You wander over to the window, opening the shades. You wince as the sunlight hits your face, nearly blinding you. Yeah, definitely _not_ a morning person.

“Oh **HELLO THERE.** ” You groan and shade your face from the harsh light.

“Who are you talking to?” Muffet asks curiously.

“The sun.” You step away from the window, careful not to trip over the chaotic mess on your floor, “My eyes may or may not have just sizzled out of their sockets.”

“Aw… What a shame.” Muffet feigns sadness, “I suppose you won’t be able to work anymore… I even bought ten pounds of white chocolate for your marble cupcakes…~”

“I’m heading over!” You say quickly, hopping over your mess towards your bed, “I just can’t seem to find my uniform...”

“Check the chair next to your bathroom.”

You take the phone from your ear and glance across the room. Next to your wardrobe, right in front of the bathroom door is the chair. On the chair is your pastel pink striped uniform. You make your way to the chair, lifting your ear the receiver again.

“How did you know? Are you psychic?” You say suspiciously. Muffet giggles from the other end of the line.

“Sugar, please~” She says lightly, “I know your apartment better than you do.”

“Creepy.” You lift the chair with the uniform away from the door so you can get in your bathroom. You kick some towels aside and amble to your sink. You look in the mirror and resist the urge to scream in horror at the disheveled figure reflected in the glass.

“I’m not the one who talks to inanimate objects, dearie~” She laughs, “Alright, I have to go. Tell the sun I said hi, and be here in twenty!”

“Will do. See you soon Muffs!”

_Click._

You sigh and drop your phone onto the pile of towels. You’re a total mess. Somehow you hadn’t noticed a strand of hair tucked in the corner of your mouth. The remnants of your winged eyeliner is smeared across your face, giving your dark eyes a raccoon-like effect. You grab your hairbrush from the cupboard next to your sink and run it through your hair, getting your bedhead under control. The dyed ends are fading from their original bubblegum color to a softer, more pastel pink. Another mental note: Buy more hair dye.

Once manage your hair, you put it up in a messy bun and turn on the sink. You don’t have time for a shower, so washing your face will have to do. You rub away your raccoon eyes, and any other excess makeup you had from last night. You reapply your eyeliner, touch up your face a bit, and stand back to admire your work. Not bad for only five minutes. You peel off your t-shirt and sweatpants. Your nose wrinkles reflexively as you drop your comfort clothes to the floor. When was the last time you washed your clothes? Yet another mental note: Do the laundry.

_Laundry. Another reason I wish I wasn’t an adult._

You step out of the bathroom, grab your uniform from the chair and slip it over your head. It’s a simple, chic little dress with pink stripes, tied around the waist with a red ribbon. You untie your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders in a wave. You look in the mirror.

_Eh… Maybe I should wear highheels._

You’re small. Not like, _freakishly_ small, you’re about 5’4” give or take. It’s your other features that make you look like a pixie. The lack of muscle, tiny waist, dainty hands and feet… Your flat-ish chest. For some reason all the extra calories pack up in your stomach, hips and legs. You used to be totally absorbed with changing how you looked. Diets, pills… Even, regrettably, anorexia. That was a long time ago. Now you’ve accepted that everyone always wants what they don’t have: It’s human just nature. So you leave it at that.

_Yeesh, let’s not think about that right now._

You slip on some white socks and black flats, giving one last look in the mirror. You smile. Now, _that’s_ something you’re notoriously known for. Smiling. You do it all the time, for anyone: Family, friends, children, elders, strangers… Anyone and anything. Your grin is like a virus. It comes so naturally to you that sometimes you don’t even realize you’re smiling until someone points it out. Most people love it. Some people find it annoying. You find that it’s the best way to keep yourself up.

_Making people happy is something I live for._

**Wake me up WAKE ME UP INSIDE~**

You jump at the sound of your phone buzzing again. You scoop it out of the towels, rush out of the bathroom and grab your grey messenger bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You look around wildly for your—

Bus pass. There it is.

You snatch it up and rush out your apartment door, nearly tripping over your own feet. You slam the door shut, and your grumpy neighbor shouts at you to keep it down.

“I’m sorry Peter!” You yell as you rush down the hallway, “I’ll bring you some leftover pastries from work, okay? I’ll see you later!”

Peter peeks through his door. Yikes, he must’ve been drinking again. He looks awfully hungover.

“Thanks (Y/N).” He hiccups, and you sense a hint of apology in his voice, “Can you pick me up some vodka… Too…”

He lurches forward. He’s in worse shape than last week. Your first instinct is to drop what you’re doing, run back and help the poor guy. But you made a promise to Muffet, so you shove it down.

“I’m getting you some ibuprofen.” You call out, “I’ll be back around six. Take care of yourself, drink lots of water! I know those hangovers can be brutal.”

As you run out the door, you hear Peter grumbling curses behind your back. He’ll come around. He always does.

**Wake me up WAKE ME UP INSIDE~**

Your phone goes off again, but this time you answer.

“Hey Muffs, I’m literally just running for the bus stop.” You huff, picking up your pace a little, “Lemme call you back?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She squeaks, “Uhm… Could you hurry a little? Tori is here.”

“Whoa, she’s an early bird.” You comment, now sprinting towards the street, “I’m sorry, I got a little distracted by Peter. I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

You see the bus approaching. Even though you’re breathing heavily and your legs are screaming at you to stop, you push forward. You can rest when you’re on the bus.

“Peter? Again?” Muffet groans, “I swear (Y/N), you take care of others more than you take care of yourself.”

“ _I’ll… Call you back…”_ You wheeze, pressing the end call button. You’re going to make it, but just barely. You whiz past old Marma, a frequent customer for you, nearly hitting her. Her tiny black poodle, Fluffles, yaps at you angrily. You don’t have time to greet her, so you keep going.

“Late again dearie?” Marma shouts amusedly, “You nearly blew me over!”

_“I’m sorry Marma,”_ You gasp, “ _I’ll talk to you later!”_

“You better!” She laughs as she tries to calm her ravenous angry poodle, “I’m coming to the shop for lunch!”

Your turn your head briefly to flash her a smile, in which returns with her own toothy grin. By now you have to slow down, or you’ll pass out from exhaustion. You wish you drank some water before you left, your mouth is parched and your lungs are on the brink of collapsing. But, you made it. You made it to the bus stop, the last person to board. As you step on, the swipe your pass and plop yourself onto the nearest seat. Paul, a white-haired Southern man with a missing tooth and a great personality, smiles at you from the driver’s seat.

“Figured you’d catch my bus, half-pint.” He smiles, showing off his missing tooth, “Came a ‘lil late jus’ in case.”

“You know me, Paul.” You sigh, trying catch your breath. He nods cheerfully and grabs the microphone dangling next to him, bringing it to his mouth to make a quick announcement:

**“Next stop: Lynnwood Avenue Northeast.”**

*****

“Babe… Baby, it’s morning.”

Sans groans and shifts over to his side, but otherwise makes no attempts of waking up. A voluptuous redheaded woman hovers over him, clutching a blanket to her bare chest. She nudges him with her knee, trying to get his attention. It works somewhat. Sans opens an eye, scaling the naked woman sitting next to him. It’s a nice sight to wake up to, he thinks. What’s her name again?

_does it matter?_

 When the woman sees his eyes open, she laughs softly.

“Oh, finally.” She coos, laying back down next to him, “Heehee… I don’t know about you, but I had a lot of fun last night babe~…”

She curls herself around his arm, stroking his collarbone with her index finger. Sans inhales tiredly. He just wants to sleep. Alone. But the woman seems to have some other plans in mind. She stares at Sans with a lust that he just doesn’t want to deal with right now. Her hand trails from his collarbone, over his ribs… Slowly but surely making her way down.

“Perhaps… We can have a little more fun.” She whispers, her eyes lidded seductively.

_she’s really asking for it._

Before her hand could reach it’s destination, his eye flashes red and her hand flies out of the covers. She inhales sharply and backs up, nearly falling off the bed.

“W-wha—“ She gasps, clutching her throbbing hand. Sans stares at her boredly, his eye smoking with irritation.

“mornin’ dollface.” He yawns, propping himself on his elbow, “yeah, last night was great. but that was _last night._ right now… you gotta leave.”

The woman gapes at Sans, unable to form words. Sans’ patience is wearing thin.

“did you hear me? do i have to say it again, _babe~?”_ He says, mocking the woman’s suggestive tone, “pack that ass and get outta here.”

The woman gathers herself, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“ **Fine.** Go the fuck to sleep, needledick.” She shouts furiously, pushing herself off his bed. Sans closes his eyes again, relieved she’s finally leaving. He isn’t even bothered while she storms around the room, gathering her clothes and other belongings. He briefly wonders if she’s stealing from him. He decides he doesn’t care. Sans was on the brink of slumber when suddenly—

_Splash._

Startled, he jolts awake. He’s dripping with water, and his bed is absolutely soaked. He turns around just in time to see the woman smash a bowl on the ground, flip him off, and rush out of the room. Anger boiled inside of him. He throws off his blankets, preparing to run after the pompous bitch and scare the living shit out of her. But—

_THUD._

His leg catches on some stray sheets and he falls over, faceplanting into the hardwood floor. His anger ebbs away with the sudden pain in his skull.

“shit…” He grumbles, pushing himself up and rubbing his forehead.

**B-Beep. B-Beep.**

Somewhere beneath him, his phone goes off. He digs around the wet blankets, searching for the source of the beeping. His hand reaches the phone, and he pulls it out. A little damp, but otherwise unharmed. Two new texts:

  


**[ goat momma 7:32 AM ]**

**Sans, this is your conscience speaking to you through Queen Toriel's phone! Wake up lazybones, tomorrow's the big day!**

  


**[ goat momma 7:32 AM ]**

**By that I mean tomorrow is Chara's birthday. It would mean a lot if you could help me shop for them. I know desserts aren't your thing, but I need a second opinion, and I know you don't care enough to lie to me :-)**

  


Sans snorts back laughter, and types back a reply.

  


**[ sansational - 7:34 AM ]**  


**ok. lemme get my pants on.**


	2. I Don't Like You Already

**_Ring ring~_ **

The shop bell goes off when you open the door, stumbling through it. The first thing you see when you walk into the little bakery is a tall, intimidating but elegant goat woman standing by the counter chatting with Muffet, and a rather large, dark, leather-clad skeleton monster boredly inspecting the liquor chocolates. So yeah, these customers seem a little difficult to deal with on sight, but you remind yourself that looks can be deceiving. Give them a genuine smile and/or laugh, and you may find that these people might end up being your best friends.

That's when you see the skeleton reach into a jar of whiskey truffles, grab two particularly large ones and pop them in his mouth.

You wince.

_ Actually, maybe not. But the chance is still there! _

Nobody has seen you yet and you don't want to barge in on Muffet and Toriel's conversation, so you low-key make your way to the counter without drawing attention. You were halfway across the room when--

“You have pink hair. Is it made of gum?”

You whip around to see a wide-eyed, rosy-cheeked child with choppy brown hair tugging on your skirt. They're so small, you didn't even notice them walking in. You give them a sly grin and squat on your heels so you're at eye level with them.

“You tell me kiddo.” You lift some of your hair, inviting the child to touch it, “Is it gum? ‘Cuz to be perfectly honest, I have no idea.”

The kid picks up the strand of hair and rubs it between their hands. They knot your hair a little, but you don't mind. After touching it, sniffing it, and burying their face in it, they proclaim:

“Yup! It's bubblegum. Vanilla bubblegum.”

You cock your head at the small child, who seems very pleased with their conclusion.

“Vanilla bubblegum.” You echo, “Fascinating. Maybe I’m descended from the bubblegum people.” You whisper, and they giggle happily at you.

“I watched this show last week called Adventure Time,” They ramble excitedly, “There's this lady in it called Princess Bubblegum, and I really like her. You look like her but you're much prettier and less cartoonish. I really like Adventure Time.”

You felt your heart jump a little. Children are so genuine and honest with their thoughts that their compliments have a much stronger effect on you. You've found that you’ve already fallen in love with this happy, bobbing child.

“D'awww, you’re making me blush sweetheart.” You grin and they jump up and down, “Guess what?”

“What.” They say with anticipation.

“I…" You pause dramatically, "... _ really  _ like Adventure Time too.”

They look at you the way a groom would look at a bride as they walk down the aisle. You're everything they want in a person.

_I think we're gonna be pretty good friends._  


“Chara, dear… Have any of the desserts caught your eye?”

You look up to find that Toriel had drifted over and is now hovering above you, watching you closely. Muffet is standing a few feet behind her, looking at you with a hint of concern. You freeze.

“Yeah! I like the red cupcakes with white frosting, and…” They glance at you for a second, “and Bubblegum!”

They jump on you (nearly knocking you over) and hug your shoulders, shrieking with delight. You feel your cheeks growing warm. You wrap you arms around their tiny back, holding them there while Toriel stares at you… Suspiciously.

“Bubblegum?” She questions, arms folded across her chest. Chara nods eagerly.

“Can Bubblegum come to the party? Please?” They beg, gripping you tightly. Toriel shifts uncomfortably. It's obvious she doesn’t like you.

_ Probably because I'm human. _

Most monsters hate humans because of the unfortunately common human stereotype of cruelty and racism towards their kind. You can't really blame their hate though. After all, humans murdered thousands of monsters, locking the survivors under Mount Ebbott for many, many years. And when they broke the barrier and attempted to join human society in peace, they were met with violence and rejection. So many families were torn apart by intense anti-monster “activists” who campaigned “MONSTERS ARE CALLED MONSTERS FOR A REASON” and “MONSTERS ≠ PEOPLE” and terrible crap like that. That ended about a year ago, but now there's a large divide between the the two races, perhaps even larger than when they were locked Underground. Of course, there are exceptions, like you and Muffet. You two are practically sisters. And if Muffet is friends with Toriel, you want to be too. So before she could respond to Chara about you attending the party, you say:

“Actually, I'm already going kiddo.” You chuckle, pulling yourself away a little, “Toriel asked us to host your party, so I’m going to be serving all sorts of tasty goodies at your birthday bash.”

They watch you closely, and you ruffle their hair while you speak:

“Your mother really thinks of everything, doesn't she?” You smile. Their head whips up to look at Toriel, then they push themselves off you, running over to their momma and wrap themselves around her leg.

“Thanks mom!” They chirp, “This is gonna be the best birthday  _ ever. _ ”

The goat woman seemed a little shocked at your kind words towards her, and it took her a second to realize that her child was waiting for a response. They squeeze her leg a little, and she snaps out of her daze.

“You’re quite welcome my child. Anything for you.” She coos, shooting you a questioning look. You simply smile at her.

“Tori,” Muffet speaks up, “If Chara would like to stay and bake for a bit while you both discuss flavors and pastries, that's totally fine with me. I know how much they like making snickerdoodles.”

“Mmm… Yes, that would be convenient. What do you say darling?” Toriel says warmly, “Want to bake while I place a few orders?”

“Mother, that's a silly question.”

“Right you are.” She chuckles, nudging Chara off her leg and towards Muffet, "Well, run along now. Momma is going to talk about your birthday treats with... Ah... Bubblegum."

Chara squeezes their mother one last time, beam at you cheerfully, then skip over to Muffet and grabs her hand. Muffet shoots you a look that says "good luck", and you wink at her. When Muffet and Chara head off to the kitchen, you're left in the shop with Toriel and the... Skeleton.

_ Dirty truffle thief. _

_... _

_ No, no that's mean. He'll probably pay for it later. _

Toriel's eyes flit from you to the skeleton, who is now looking at a jar filled with colorful frosted sugar cookies. He grabs a yellow flower cookie from the jar with his bare hands, bites it in half, then closes the lid and wanders to the donuts section. You and Toriel make eye contact. You give her a "please-for-the-love-of-god-help-me-out-here-all-I-want-is-to-avoid-unnecessary-conflict-and-do-my-job-without-having-to-fight-with-leather-clad-skeletons" look, and she sighs.

"Sans! Have you found anything worth buying?" She calls out. The skeleton turns around, munching on the other half of the cookie.

"not really." He says absentmindedly, finishing off the stolen treat, "they have pretty good whiskey truffles, but i'm assuming you don't want to be feeding the kiddies alcohol  _just_ yet."

"You're assuming correctly." She nods, turning to you, "I'll pay for anything he ends up taking, uhm... Would you like me to call you Bubblegum?"

"I have a lot of nicknames, I don't necessarily have a preference." You say with a nonchalant shrug, "Birth certificate-wise I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, (Y/N)." She laughs airily, "It's very nice to meet you. I apologize if my first impression wasn't a good one... I recognize that I can be a little hostile, particularly to humans. Chara seems to be quite taken with you though, so I'm sure you're a kind person."

"Heh, thanks." You scratch your head awkwardly. You're not really sure if that was a compliment or not, but you let it go.

"So, about the pastries..."

***

I'm wandering around the store, looking for any possible birthday treat that will blow Chara's socks off. Yeah, I'm not a birthday or dessert person. I don't know when my birthday is, or even my brother's for that matter. But for Chara, I'll do my best. The kid singlehandedly killed Asgore, brought Asriel back from the dead, stopped everyone from mindlessly murdering each other and broke us out of the Underground. They brought what Toriel calls "a spark" of hope into our lives. Don't know what that means, and I don't care. But, what I do know is we-- _I_ owe them too much.

_and i hate owing people._

I grumble while looking through the chocolate truffles, trying to find something appealing. I'm thinking white chocolate. The kid always had a sweet tooth. I would know, I've knocked theirs out a few times.

_heh._

I have to keep reminding myself that violence isn't funny on the surface, at least to most people. Whatever. Most people are boring, almost robotic in a way. Always so selfish, so absorbed in their puny heads that they can't see a bigger picture. It's hilarious how they think they are such complicated creatures, when in reality they all have the same formula. I say a few magic words to them, hand them money, or flatter their flaws and _bam_ , they're wrapped around my little finger. They get so offended by their stereotypes, when in reality the stereotypes fit them perfectly, like puzzle pieces.

_oh, what do we have here? whiskey truffles?_

My eyes fall upon the liquor chocolate shelf, where a jar of whiskey truffles sat. I wonder if Muffet burns off the alcohol.

_**Ring ring~** _

The bell hooked to the front door jingles, and I glance over to the entrance. A human girl who looks messy and ruffled walks into the shop. Yeah, she looks real fucked up. Her pink hair is flying everwhere, her face is flushed red and she's panting heavily, like she ran here in a hurry. Muffet and Toriel didn't seem to notice her walk in, they're still in deep conversation about party preparations. She does a double take, looking around the room. Her eyes fall on me, and I quickly look away.

_ugh. humans._

Judging by the slutty baking getup, I assume she works here. My eyes flit to the side and I see she's still looking at me. Funny, usually when a human sees me they either run away, avert their eyes, or swoon. This girl is just... Looking. No fear, no lust, and no ill intent behind her dark, innocent eyes. For some reason it's irritating the fuck outta me.

_d'aw, not scared of the big bad monster? you will be soon babe._

I pick up two big whiskey truffles and pop them in my mouth. Okay, I know I said I'm not much of a dessert person, but damn these are good. I'm pretty sure the alcohol is burnt off, unfortunately. Now, people often ask me: "Sans, why do you care if there's no alcohol? You don't have a liver, let alone organs. You can't get drunk!" to which I say: "i don't have organs, i can get drunk, i love getting drunk, and fuck you. it's magic."

The girl (who was finally done looking me over) made it halfway to the counter when--

"You have pink hair. Is it made of gum?"

The kid bounded over to the girl and pointed at her hair curiously. The girl kneels down next to Chara and flashes them a... Genuine smile. Yeah, it's a charming smile, almost too charming. But there's something about it that is just _real._ Totally unprofessional. I feel something tugging on my soul, and it's making me sick.

_i don't like you, human girl, and i don't even know your name._

The girl continues talking to the kid like they are equals, and the kid seems to have stars in their eyes by the time they're finished speaking with each other. At some point Toriel made their way over to them, hovering over the girl with a menacing look in her eyes. I can't help but think of how that glint of anger is such a turnon. I close my eyes, kicking myself internally for thinking of Toriel again.

_we're over. moving along, sans._

I wander over to the jars of cookies, where a particular sugar cookie with a yellow flower frosted on it's surface catches my eye. I hate sugar cookies, but I have the strong urge to eat it just out of spite. So I rip off the lid, dig into the jar and pull out the cookie. It's pretty big, even for me, but I eat half of it in one bite.

"Sans! Have you found anything worth buying?"

I spin around at Toriel's question, holding the remnants of the cookie in my hand. The girl is watching me closely, a hint of pain in her expression. I nibble on the cookie, and her mouth twitches a bit.

_heh._

"not really." I call back, finishing off the cookie, "they have pretty good whiskey truffles, but i'm assuming you don't want to be feeding the kiddies alcohol  _just_ yet."

"You're assuming correctly." Toriel smiles at me smugly, sending conflicting thoughts into my chaotic mind. She turns to the pink haired girl and says something along the lines of "i'll pay for him". I furrow my brow angrily. I'm not going to freeload from Toriel. Hey, I can stoop pretty low, but even I have standards.

So, even though it takes a ridiculous amount of time, I wait for them to finish up talking about flavors and shit. Eventually they do. Toriel hands the girl a wad of bills, thanks her with a smile and walks off to the kitchen, probably to get Chara. As soon as she walks through the door, I saunter over to the girl. At the sound of my footsteps approaching her, she looks up from the tiny stack of bills. I cock my head, my grin widening just a fraction of an inch.

First thing I notice as I get closer to her: She's so _small_. I'm six inches taller than her, easy. I could crush her like a flower. Second thing I notice: I can't read her. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal. There are plenty of humans I've met that are a challenge to figure out. But the thing that's unsettling about this is that she isn't difficult to read in a dark, mysterious way. She's hiding herself in a mask of selfless goodness. Third thing I notice...

She has a pretty nice ass.

"Hi." She says, giving me that sickening smile. I dig my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket, searching for some spare change.

"hey." I say, stopping a foot away her face and loom above her. She has to tilt her head upward to keep eye contact with me, and that's when I'm slumping. The girl doesn't shrink away, or move at all. I grimace slightly.

_c'mon, gimme a reaction here._

"i see you're already gettin' friendly with toriel." I comment, still looking for cash in my pockets, "pretty remarkable."

"You think so?" Her eyes widen, "That's good. I kept feeling like she was trying to decide whether to let me live or not."

I let out a throaty chuckle at that statement. It does seem like Toriel.

"well congrats, you're still breathing." I pull out a twenty dollar bill from the depths of my pockets and hold it out to her. I expect her to take it, but she only stares at my hand with a puzzled look on her face.

"What's this for?" She says, looking up at me. I inhale, irritated at her.

"your services." I drawl. Her confusion increases.

"My... Services?" She says slowly, "If you're talking about tips, we don't take--"

"how much per hour? and where should we meet?"

"What are you talking about?"

I grin sadistically, leaning down to close the distance between us. She doesn't move. She doesn't blush. She looks at me, unflinching and uncertain. Why not take this a step further?

 _"you'll be trembling by the time i'm finished with you."_ I breathe in a sultry voice, _"and trust me, you'll never be the same again."_

A deafening silence settles between us. I'm sure I've got her in my hold. Women melt easily at these words, and she's looking at me with a dazed expression.

"Do you work at a haunted house or something?" She asks. My grin falters.

"what?"

"Sounds like you're trying to buy me into some horror house shindig." She says, her eyebrows slightly tilted upward with a smile, ""i'll have you trembling by the time i'm finished with you."" She attempts to lower her voice to imitate me, but fails miserably. She laughs sheepishly, small dimples forming on her cheeks.

"What's that about?"

Muffet strides into the room, followed by Toriel and Chara. I take a step back from the girl, keeping steady eye contact with Muffet. She doesn't like me. That was established long ago. Back in the Underground when a business transaction went wrong, and she got the worst side of the deal. We would've killed each other long ago if it weren't for the anarchy abolishment when we broke the barrier.

Anyhow, Muffet headed straight for me, determination flickering in her eyes. That's my cue to back off. Not from fear, but from not wanting to deal with a spider's bullshit. I scoff at her, eyeing her with disdain.

"nothin' really. just doing a business transaction."

Muffet pales. She steps protectively over to the girl and casts me a dirty look.

"Business transaction? That's a dangerous pastime." She laughs bitterly, sending more confusion over the girl's face.

"mm, you would know firsthand sweetcheeks."

Her dirty look turns murderous. Nice. I shrug casually, taking a cigarette box out of the front pocket of my jacket. I bite a loose cigarette from the opening, holding it in place with my tongue. I tuck away the box again. The girl is looking at my burning red eye with curiousity.

"say, sweetheart." I say, addressing the girl, "got a light?"

"No. But if you'd like we can set the oven to 450° and you can step in there for a while." Muffet cuts in rudely.

"Wow, _okay._ " The girl says, shocked at rhe spider's cruel tone, "That's a little uncalled for, Muffs."

"yeah, i'm hurt, _Muffs._ " I chuckle darkly, earning a scowl from her. She turns on her heel, huffing angrily and still throwing me violent grimaces. The girl stares at her as she walks back into the kitchen, then turns to look at me.

"That was... Strange, to say the least." She mumbles, "She's not usually like this."

The girl seemed so conflicted. It's hilarious.

"eh, don't mind her." I chew on the end of the cigarette boredly, "now, sweetheart--"

"(Y/N)." She corrects.

"i prefer sweetheart." I take the cigarette from my mouth and stuff it in my pocket.

"Hold on, lemme just add that to my never ending list of nicknames." She says with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"well, don't want to be basic now, do i?" I lid my eyes, "how 'bout sweetcheeks?"

"Already called that." She laughs lightly.

"alright... sugar."

"Nope."

"short stack."

"Really?"

"tiny tits."

"Believe it or not, already taken."

I'm taken aback by this human girl. I basically just insulted her rack, and she's just standing there, gazing at me with an unfazed expression. She's not going to say anything?

_what the fuck?!_

"okay, tiny tits." I hiss, grabbing her arm and slamming twenty bucks into her hand, "i get it. you're a smug little shit."

"Wait--"

"just take the tip. i hate owing people." I turn away from her, following Toriel and Chara out the door.

"I don't--"

"the name's sans, by the way. sans the skeleton." I call over my shoulder, "see you tomorrow, tiny tits. don't forget a birthday present."

(Y/N) stands there in the middle of the room, gripping the twenty in both her hands. The last thing I see before I trudge off is Muffet emerging from the kitchen. Toriel and Chara must be way ahead of me, I can't see them on the street. I don't care. I want to get home and take a nap. I hope to god this anger will die off the more I think it through, but it doesn't. I'm more furious than ever. Magic courses through my bones, triggering a burning sensation in my eye socket.

_she's a fucking tease, and she's not even trying._

Her laugh rings in my mind. I growl under my breath and consider turning around and giving her a piece of my mind. I try to imagine her begging for mercy. I can't do it. I have this urge to break her. I want to destroy her mentally and physically. Her kind voice echoes in my head over and over, taunting me. 

Might as well forget about that nap.

_as if i could sleep after that encounter._


	3. He Probably Just Needs a Hug

"So, what exactly happened?"

Muffet sat you down at a table in the back of the kitchen and was trying to coax you into saying something about your... "Encounter" with Sans. Quite honestly, you were a little shaken up from the whole ordeal. Yeah, you managed to keep a straight face, but inside you were screaming at yourself to not throw a coconut cream pie in his face. He was so _rude_ , he thought he could just waltz into YOUR bakery, eat YOUR pastries without paying, and expected you to do... You don't even know what he was tipping you to do. Yeah, you noticed he was being suggestive. You aren't a total idiot. But you also didn't want to assume anything, for all you knew he _did_ work at a haunted house! So yeah, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but that's all you're willing to give him at the moment.

"Nothing much, he just got really angry at me when I didn't accept a tip." You shrug, sitting back in your seat, "He seemed like a nice-ish person. I bet with a good joke and maybe a bottle of whiskey he'd be fun to hang out with."

Muffet throws her head back laughing, like you just told the funniest joke she's ever heard. You chuckle sheepishly, not sure how to react.

"Sugar," She snorts, gripping her gut, "You don't know Sans like I do. He's a total... Ah..."

She pauses. Muffet knows you try and steer clear of cussing, but not because it's "not ladylike" or that kind of stuff. You just don't want to overdo it. If you cuss too often, you find that you start to lose the power behind it.

"He's a total..." You say slowly, urging her on.

"Selfish, using, violent, apathetic dirtbag." She says pointedly.

"Wow, he sounds like a nice guy." You say, staring at the table, "You don't think that's a little harsh?"

"Absolutely not." She huffs, "I know you like to give people a chance, dearie, but trust me on this: You don't want to get involved with him. His demons got the best of him, he's way too far gone--"

"We've all got demons, Muffet."

You look up at her, determination building in your eyes. Muffet realizes that she might've not said the smartest thing right there.

"I know, I know dearie, but he's a whole lotta trouble that I don't want you to get into." She reasons, "Listen... Are you listening to me?"

You're watching her, a small smile playing on your lips. She sighs.

"You aren't listening to me, aren't you..."

"Nope!" You say cheerfully, standing up from the table, "Alright, we should get started on that order now, or we'll never finish in time for the party."

You rub your hands in anticipation, skipping over to the pantry for baking supplies. Muffet trails behind you, torn on what to say. She knows how stubborn you are when it comes to these things. She also knows how much of a pushover you could be. So the way she sees it, she has three options:

1\. Threaten you.

2\. Continue arguing with you.

3\. Say she's worried about you.

Her instincts are pushing her towards option one, but she knows that you wouldn't like being threatened. Sure, that kind of stuff worked in the Underground, but this is you we're talking about. Sweet, smiling, always-looking-for-an-upside you. She couldn't threaten you even if she had to.

She could continue arguing, thats always a possibility. But your logic, however naive it may be, we infuriatingly convincing.

Then there's the last option. The most undignifying way to get what she needs to get across to you. God...

"Uh, (Y/N)?" She says, leaning over your shoulder. You're digging through the shelves, looking for the new order of white chocolate.

"What's up?" You ask, moving the vanilla out of the way, "You'd better not be trying to continue our argument earlier." You grin.

"No, I just want to say..." She inhales, "I'm... Worried about you."

You stop rummaging through the shelf. Muffet clears her throat.

"You're so... Kind." She picks her words carefully, "Kindness is a foreign concept to monsters like Sans. I'm just scared he's going to take advantage of you. I wouldn't put it past him if he ended up really hurting you, physically and mentally."

You turn around, watching her silently.

"And, uhm... I said it like a jerk, but I really meant it. He's too far gone, he can't be changed."

"I'm not going to try and change him, Muffet." You burst out laughing, surprising her, "I'm just going to be nice, okay? I doubt I'm going to see him after this party anyways."

You shake your head and turn back to the shelf, looking for the chocolate again.

"I'm not going to let his bad day ruin mine. That's what people like him want, right? To spread their anger?"

"Right." Muffet admits reluctantly. You grab onto a block of chocolate shoved in the back of the shelf, turn around and flash her a grin, bringing a smile onto her own crestfallen face.

"He probably just needs a hug..." You say absentmindedly, shooting her a smug look. She jolts, utter terror taking over her expression.

 **"Absolutely DO NOT HUG HIM."** She says, horrified. You snort with laughter.

"Hah! Okay, I won't. No really, I won't!" You laugh when her terror turns to disbelief. Muffet follows you out of the pantry, radiating concern.

"Don't do anything like that. Don't even make eye contact." She rambles, "Actually, just don't do anything at all!"

"Muffet..."

**"What."**

"That's impossible and you know it. He's gonna be at the party."

Muffet sighs, defeated by your reasoning. You look at her softly.

"Just... Don't do anything stupid, promise?" She asks weakly. You squeeze her arm comfortingly.

"I'll do my best."


	4. Intimidation and Reasoning

You stand at the gate of the intimidating fenced estate. You got a hint that Toriel and Chara were... Uh, wealthy, but not like this. The whole place look like it's straight out of a movie. Behind the fence is a massive, dark mansion. A freakin' _mansion._ I know Toriel is the last of the royal family and all, but come on, a millionaire would be drooling at the sight of this place.

As you stand gaping at the massive barred gate, Muffet steps beside you with the collapsed pastry cart dragging behind her. You don't take your eyes off the entrance.

"Well then." You state loudly, "This isn't intimidating at all."

Muffet chuckles lightly, pulling the cart next to her. She seems a little nervous as well.

"I... I know it seems a little sketchy..." Muffet says slowly, "But I know Toriel very well. She and her family are slightly... Bizarre, but they can be very sweet when they want to."

"Heh, anyone can be sweet if they want to, Muffs." You chuckle lightly, "Don't worry, I'm not backing out on you. Let's take this castle by storm!"

You strike a dorky battle pose sending Muffet into a fit of gut-wrenching laughter. You must've looked pretty bad. You smile sheepishly and punch her shoulder playfully.

"Hey, come on." You snort, "Don't laugh, I've been working on that."

"I can tell." She wheezes, clutching her aching abdomen, "Do yourself a favor and don't try anything like that during the party."

"No promises.".

***

"Sans! Where. Have. You Been?!" Toriel screeches.

Sans lifts his face from the armrest of the couch, his eyes lidded and dark from lack of sleep. He groans at the sight of Toriel, who's fuming angrily over his sleeping form. He knows damn well why she's pissed. He's been missing in action when he was supposed to be helping her out with party preparations, and all the sudden he appears in her livingroom unannounced... Not to help or anything, but to _sleep_. So yeah, he's in trouble. He shifts onto his elbow, propping himself up on his hand.

"sorry tori..." He grunts, rubbing his face tiredly, "i've been losing sleep--"

"Why." She interrupts, tapping her foot impatiently. She's having none of his bullshit.

"i..." He furrows his brow irritably. No way in hell is he gonna tell her about _you_. A fucking human consuming his thoughts? She'd laugh. It would make him laugh too if he wasn't so goddamn pissed. You didn't even do anything to piss him off either, which makes it all the more unbearable.

"i'm just having a bad time." He mutters. Toriel conjures a fiery flame in each of her hands as anger radiated from her soul. Sans simply lies there, unfazed by her attempt to intimidate him.

"you gonna do that every time you don't get whatcha want?" He drawls, keeping steady eye contact with her. At this, she shrieks and hurls a fireball, just barely missing his head.

"For the record," She fumes, shoving her pointer finger in his face, "this is why we didn't work out! You lazy oaf!"

Sans sways a moment, shocked at the sudden violence. When he finally gets his bearings, he's very, _very_ angry.

"crazy old lady... how the fuck was i ever attracted to you?" He hisses at her, in which she snarls right back at him.

Sans thinks that she's going to fire another insult or attack at him, but she doesn't. She storms off, leaving him on the couch with a smoking crater of burnt fabric fabric behind him. He half-expected her to be violent, but that was dangerously close... Although murder isn't in her best interest, she would definitely burn him. The side of his head tingles from the close shave with the fireball. He runs his hand across his skull, mumbling curses under his breath.

_this is her fault._

Your cheery face flashes through his mind for the hundredth time today, making him want to stab a bitch. Why are you, of all people, stuck in his head? You're not that special. Yeah, he doesn't _understand_ you, but that's probably because he just hasn't talked to you long enough. Nobody is genuinely, honest-to-god nice to people without wanting something from them! Especially monsters. You're an enigma, an enigma he wants desperately to define and fit into his box of stereotypes. But he just can't comprehend your kindness, and it's driving him up the wall (Which is saying something, because he avoids moving... Unless he's in bed). He's never been so frustrated before. You just... Smiled at him so easily. And fuck... It was a nice smile.

_what a fucking drag._

You're going to be at the party tonight. In fact, you might be setting up your stand now. He pushes himself off the couch and ambles over to a nearby window overlooking the massive courtyard. He pushes the heavy velvet curtains out of the way and stares out the window. Chara and Asriel are playing in the fountain next to the front door as Toriel watches them from the lawn. Past the lawn there's a small patch of trees, and he spots Papyrus and Undyne training on some straw dummies. Undyne stands off to the side with her arms crossed across her chest, watching Papyrus behead a dummy in one clean swing. Impressive. If he squints he can see the bakery truck outside the massive gate and two figures dragging something. So you _are_ here, huh?

He leans against the window, his eyes lazily trained on you while you drag your cart with Muffet. As you approach the mansion, he could see your face better. Your usual smile is replaced with a pained grimace as you lug along the heavy cart, face flushed and chest rising and falling heavily. Lewd images pass through his mind briefly as he watched you struggle with the cart. He shakes his head dismissively and scowls, dragging his hands down his face. You're so innocent, so precious to Muffet... The idea of you squirming underneath him, your soft features contorted in painful ecstasy as you call his name... It sent twisted, dark and burning feelings in his chest.

"You seem deep in thought. Are you okay?" A deep, silky voice hums behind him.

Sans snaps back to reality, his cheekbones tinted red. He turns his head to see--

"gaster." He breathes. Gaster has this consistent (and quite frankly, annoying) habit of being a silent watcher, so god knows how long he's been behind him. He's standing off to his side with his hands folded behind his back, his tall, dark figure fitting right in with the shadows. After the few seconds of Sans being aware of his presence, he's irritated by him.

"since when have you cared if i was okay?" He mumbles.

"Touché." Gaster says, his eyes crinkling in amusement, "But for what reason are you thinking so hard?"

Sans glances out the window. You and Muffet are at the fountain now, and while Muffet greets and discusses something or other with Toriel, you're bombarded by two very soaked hyper children. Your flushed face lights up with a smile as Chara jumps onto you, hugging your torso tightly. Asriel shyly tugs on your skirt, looking at the ground. You kneel down with Chara in your arms, pulling Asriel in for a group hug. After a few seconds Chara sprung out of your grip, grabs your hand in theirs and says something to Toriel, who in turn nods hesitantly. Chara proceeds to drag you off towards the front door, Asriel trotting behind you both.

"A female human?" Gaster asks curiously, looking over Sans' shoulder. Sans jumps, startled by how silently he creeped behind him.

"for fuck's sake, don't do that!" Sans shouts exasperatedly, leaning against the windowpane.

"Don't do what?" Gaster cocks his head ever-so-slightly, his eyes glinting knowingly.

"you know damn well what i mean." Sans growls, averting his gaze from him.

"I'm not sure I do. Please elaborate." Gaster says with a hint of mirth in his tone. He knows what'll set Sans off.

"one day gaster. one day, i will murder you."

"I advise against that." He chuckles, stepping forward next to Sans and peers through the window. His calculating gaze follows you and the children until you reach the front steps. Your hair whips around your face as you're pulled along by the small child. Your eyes flit upward and scale the large house. You look slightly nervous, but your uncertainty was overruled by a curious glint in your eyes. As you're taking in the enormity of the mansion, you briefly see Sans through the open window. He moved away so quickly though that you dismissed it as your imagination. Gaster, however, stands unmovingly at the window, staring down at you with his arms folded neatly behind his back. You catch each other's gaze, and you flash him a smile wave shyly up at him before being dragged through the door and out of sight.

"She seems like quite the character." Gaster comments, eyebrow raised at Sans.

"how would you know?" He growls irritably, "you don't know her at all."

Gaster turns away from him, staring out the window thoughtfully.

"Please. Any human who sees a dark, ehm... "alarming" figure watching them from the window would be disturbed. However, she didn't avert her gaze..." He narrows his eyes, "And she... Greeted me?"

"don't take it personally, she smiles at everyone." Sans says pointedly.

"You seem agitated by this human."

"what do you want gaster?" Sans His eye flashes red, but only for a moment. 

"the one time you decide to crawl out from under your rock, and it's during the kid's birthday. you hate birthdays, call them "simple ways to celebrate mediocrity". the only reason you appear anywhere is if you want something."

Gaster sighs, stepping away from the window and saunters over to Sans, watching him carefully.

"You know me all too well, Sans. I have many reasons for showing up unannounced. Many are irrelevant to you." He closes his eyes, "Let's just say... I felt a disturbance in the void."

"distur--"

"Ah! No questions." He interrupts, putting a hand up, "I'm not entirely sure why myself. Besides, where's the fun of a secret if you don't keep it?" He finishes, his eyes twinkling.

Sans stands there, glaring daggers at Gaster, who in turn didn't seem to give a rat's ass about his rage. The corners of his mouth are turned upward ever-so-slightly, looking down at Sans with a hint of condescending superiority. It made Sans feel small, slightly vulnerable to his soul-piercing eyes. After an agonizing silence, he speaks up.

"i can't stop you from your... "research" or whatever," Sans says with as much composure as he could muster, "but if you even _try_ to mess with chara..."

"Now Sans," Gaster chides with feigned affection, "I'm offended you'd think I'd meddle with the current timeline. Believe me, I'm done messing around with such endeavors. I'm simply here for experimental purposes. Besides," He says, turning and walking towards the door.

"How could I pass up the opportunity to see an old friend?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gaster bursts through the door*
> 
> WHAT UP BITCHES
> 
> *[Back In Black](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAgnJDJN4VA) blasts in the background*


	5. He's So Tall, And Handsome As Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hey guys, if you happen to care which of my stories I release the most, click this link to vote for stuff!](http://lizzyisaway.tumblr.com/post/142882200124/hey-guys-so-i-created-this-poll-thing-for-the)
> 
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> 
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>  
> 
> THIS FIC HAS 500+ KUDOS
> 
> ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I HEAR Y'ALL
> 
> JUST LIKE I HEAR WILDEST DREAMS IN MY HEAD ON REPEAT

You breathe heavily and clutch the stitch forming in your side as you struggle to keep up with Chara. You've spent the last hour being dragged around the estate by this small child and the slightly smaller goat-child.

"C'mon Bubblegum! I haven't even shown you the stables yet!"

"Y-you have..." You gasp for air, "...You have stables, too?"

Chara slows down briefly to glance behind at you, but quickly picks up their pace again.

"Of course, don't you?"

"Not really, no." You chuckle weakly.

"Not... Not many people have as much stuff as we do, Chara." Asriel comments shyly, in which Chara lets out a cute little snort of laughter. Asriel ducks his head, flushing bright red in his cheeks. You have a feeling he's not red because you've been jogging for fifteen minutes straight. Honestly though, watching him trot alongside you makes you wonder how on earth he's not even a bit winded from all this _running._ You're gonna have to sleep for thirty-four years to recharge from this "little" tour.

Chara finally leads you to the base of a hill behind the mansion, where there's a thick-beamed oaken stable surrounded by a large, circular rink. Magnolia trees scatter the hillside and vines of ivy twist around the fenceposts of the rink, giving the place a Middle Earth sort of atmosphere. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of it all.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Chara chirps proudly, letting go of your hand and skipping over to the stable gate. You linger behind, slowly making your way to the gate as you drink in the scenery. You hardly notice Asriel shyly holding onto the hem of your skirt as you walk. He seems to have taken a liking to you...

**Wake me up, _WAKE ME UP INSIDE..._**

Asriel jumps and lets go of your skirt in his panic. You smile apologetically and pick up your phone.

_New text, huh?_

...

_Oh shit._

"Uh, Chara..." You look up from your urgent message, "Muffs wants me back. Like, right now."

"No." They respond immediately, huffing and stomping their foot, "Can't you stay here?! I wanna show Bubblegum the horses!"

You stand there quite perplexed on what to do about the birthday child's resilience, when suddenly Asriel peaks around your legs and speaks up.

"Miss Muffet needs help right now, Chara. (Y/N) can see the horses anytime."

Chara seems a little startled at Asriel's assertive tone, but otherwise remains rooted in their stubbornness. Before they could protest further, you say:

"Asriel's right, darling. I can come whenever you want me to--"

"No you can't." They state bluntly.

"Of course I--"

"Only if you babysit us." They interrupted, eyes twinkling and arms akimbo. You're taken aback by the statement and you almost say "done." immediately, but then you remember: You're a busy gal. Full time job, keeping up with friends and family, taking care of your problematic fave neighbor, not to mention all the side quests of your life...

"Well... I can talk your mom about it... But I'm not sure..." you say carefully, not wanting to impose on the family dynamic. Chara seems confident though as they say,

"Oh, mum won't mind. I'll ask her. So, is it a yes?" They ask with anticipation.

"I mean, if it's okay I suppose I could figure it out..." You smile, internally kicking yourself for being such a freaking pushover.

"Yay!!" They laugh, running over to Asriel and clasping their hands with his. Meanwhile, you hear your phone ring again. For some reason, the more it rings, the more urgent it sounds.

"Ah damn..." you curse your inability to respond to calls, "Alright kiddies, I have to split. I'll see you at cake time!"

You wave at the children one last time, then sprint across the lush green pasture as fast as your aching legs will take you. Thank God you didn't wear heels today. You round a corner to enter the courtyard, where the cupcake stand is--

**THUD.**

You hit someone. Someone very tall and quite frankly very strong, because you nearly fell on your ass, but luckily that someone you ran into grabbed you by the waist before you hit the ground. 

"My my, are you in a bit of a rush?" A deep, resonant voice chuckles, still holding your waist with one arm as he stabilizes you by the shoulder with the other. You look up at your assault-ee and recognized him as the man who waved at you when you arrived earlier. You grin sheepishly, an apology on the tip of your tongue just waiting to be said, but before you could say anything he beats you to it.

"Apologies, my dear. I was loitering around and wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. But I must ask," He cocks his head, and you swear you could see a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Why are you running?"

"Because, sir," You say with a smile, "running gets me places faster."

You gently tug his arms away from you and say, "I'm sorry, I really have to go. Thanks for catching me!"

And so you run off, leaving behind a very dumbstruck man who may just have found what he was looking for.

***

"Look who finally showed up."

Muffet was waiting next to the stand, arms crossed and looking slightly peeved with you. Next to her you saw a very bored-looking cat? You think? Maybe it's a ferret. Anyways, there's a feline-like monster leaning against the counter and flipping through a Playboy magazine.

"I'm so sorry Muffs." You gasp for air. You really need to work out more often.

"Yeah well, you're definitely gonna be more sorry when we finish this conversation." Muffet rolls her eyes and you feel a little bad, "I have another client. A friend. He's throwing a business party, and I kinda owe him money from the Underground. So, I have to go, but luckily you're not going to be running shop alone. Burgerpants, that guy over there, will help you. He owes me, so he probably won't ditch, right?"

The feline hums in reply.

"Good." Muffet's stressed expression fades a little, "Any questions?"

"Uh, yeah." You raise an eyebrow, "Does everyone in the Underground have tabs to pay or..."

Muffet snorts and grins at you. You know she can't stay mad at you for long.

"It was pretty messy down there, yeah." She sighs, "If you don't have any more questions, I better go get started on the order. I, quite literally, have to go pay a tab."

He grabs her purse from the chair behind the counter and slings it over her shoulder.

"See you later, alligator." She smiles, fistbumping you as she walks past.

"After a while, crocodile." You answer.

As soon as Muffet is gone, you realize that it's just you and the Playboy magazine guy. Upon the first few seconds if being aware of his existence, you knew that he does _not_ want to be here.

You know what kind of guy he is.

"Alright." You say loudly, clapping your hands and startling him, "Let's keep this short and sweet. My name is (Y/N). Call me whatever you like. I'm a Baker. My job today is to serve cupcakes to small humans and monsters."

The feline's unlit cigarette drooped in his mouth. He seemed shocked by your sudden assertion. You look expectantly at him, waiting for his response, which came after he wiped the awestruck look on his face.

"Th' name's Burgerpants. Call me BP. I'm a part-time cashier. A very luxurious job, I know. My job today is to do whatever you say, per a spider's request."

"Okay." You nod, "So, uh, BP. I can tell that you don't want to be here."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "What makes you think that?"

"I can just tell. I'm like a bee, I can sense these things." You joke, and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, "Anyways, if you don't want to do this, just tell me and you can be on your merry way."

Burgerpants puts down the magazine, pushes off the counter and straightens his red polo shirt with a chuckle.

"Pshhhhh, "merry"." He scoffs amusedly, "I'm anything but merry, Short n' Sweet, but... Imma hang around. Thanks for the offer though."

"Okay..." you say slowly, "But are you sure?" You don't want to spend the next three hours with a guy who doesn't want to be here. He shrugs in response.

"Yeah, I got nothing better to do." He sighs, "Plus, you seem laid back. I like that."

"Thanks." You smile, then cock your head, "Also, did you call me Short 'n Sweet?"

A flash of concern shows on his face, but it was so quick you might've imagined it.

"Is that okay?" He says in a monotonous voice.

"Yeah, yeah." You say quickly, "it's just..."

"It's just...?" He stares at you blankly.

"That's a new one."


	6. I Don't Conform To The Norm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing too much Pokémon GO
> 
> #TeamInstinct
> 
> #dab
> 
> #hella

_Fire._

_**Hellfire.** _

That's the only way you could describe what went down at the party. The kids were all hyper off their little butts. Chara only knows one gear: running. So imagine thirty different-specie Charas hopped up on four cupcakes each. 

Exactly.

Who's brilliant idea was it to give these little demons sugar anyways? It was beyond you.

And to make matters worse, the adults weren't being attentive to their children. Isn't it crazy how we have these responsibility standards for adults, and yet they seldom meet those, quite frankly, _low_ standards. But you don't dwell on it much, because being bitter doesn't fix your current problem. Time to rally all these buzzed children and set up a game before they burn the house down. People don't call you a caretaker for nothing.

"Alright kiddies!" You yell above the children's shrieking, "Time for a game!"

Frisk and their friend Monster Kid are the only ones who brought their attention to you, all the others are still bouncing off the courtyard walls. You don't think you can tell any louder than you did... How will you get them to listen...?

"HEY GUYS!!!" Chara screams at a horrible/impressive volume, "WE'RE PLAYING HIDE AND GO SEEK TAG!!!!! LET'S GO TO (Y/N)!!!"

_Fuck me._

This situation is worthy of swearing. A sea of wide-eyed, psychotic monster toddlers come at you in a wave, making you have a mini panic attack. You surround you, expecting you to _organize_ them into groups to play their game.

Challenge accepted, badass babysitter activated.

"Alright, here's what's happening!!" You shout with a purpose, "We're splitting into teams of two. Each team will have two taggers. These taggers can only tag someone from _their team_!! If you tag someone from the opposite team, it doesn't count!! Try to turn everyone on the team into taggers before thirty minutes are up!! Any questions?!"

A small, green fire elemental raises her hand. You point at her, confirming her question.

"Uh... Uhm... Why do we have to split into teams? Wouldnt it be easier to have one big team?"

You grin impishly in response.

"Exactly." You nod, "What's the fun in making something easy?"

The little ones jump and cheer happily. Phew, they agree with you.

And so the tedious team sorting began. You ran into a few problems here and there, but otherwise it went pretty smoothly. Unlike most human children, the monster kids _all wanted to be the taggers_. Go figure.

"Okay, we all sorted?!"

Uproarious affirmations.

"Wonderful! When you hear this whistle," you dangle your whistle as they watch you intently, "the game starts, alright? When you hear the whistle again, gather back at fountain in the courtyard. Now scatter!"

You blew the whistle, and the crowd split. It was quite a wonder to watch. Thes kids were so wild, so enthusiastic, it makes them nore intimidating than those teenage jocks that migrate in groups of fifteen for some goddamn reason.

_What is up with jocks their inability to split from their herd?_

You stand there, mind wandering as you watch the lil' monsters cramble across the property, frantic to avoid being tagged. Soon you're snapped out of your daze when you hear:

**_Clap. Clap. Clap._ **

Your favorite leather-clad skeleton steps into view, giving you a bony slow clap.

_Is he seriously slow-clapping me?_

"impressive." He leisurely strolls up to you, like he couldn't care less whether he was here or not, "you got all those little demons to follow your orders."

"I wouldn't necessarily go so far as to say they're 'following orders', but thanks man." You crack a polite smile as you try to find the grace in your heart to not give him a verbal beatdown. What's his deal anyways? Does he think that it's cool to be so condescending, or is that just how he is?

You feel like it's the second one.

"eh, if you say so..." He shoves his hands in his pockets, his eyes flickering at you, "princess."

"You're gonna have to try harder than that."

"bloody hell. is there a single nickname that you haven't been called?" He scoffs, kicking the ground. It seemed like he didn't put much strength into that swing, and yet a large chunk of turf came loose with his boot. 

_How... Exactly how strong is he?_

You shiver slightly, but not enough for him to notice.

"Of course there are! BP came up with one earlier." You answer him, turning your attention back to the monster kids. Sans stands directly next to you, slightly miffed that your disinterest in continuing this conversation.

"that's fuckin' bullshit." He hisses, scrutinising you carefully to see in you glance his way. Your eyes are fixated on the children. He huffs angrily and looks away.

"It's really not. He lucked out, plus the nickname wasn't demeaning." You say matter-of-factly, casting a furtive glance at him. Why is he furiously staring at the ground? 

_Weird._

Sans grumbles, half at you and half at himself.

"demeaning? i'm not fuckin' demeaning. fuckin' prissy shithead burgerpants..."

"You're not really good at being quiet, are you?" You laugh, startling him, "Also, don't you think you're overdoing the cussing a bit?"

"what's that supposed to fuckin' mean? so you don't like swearing now? you really are a softie." He smirks.

"It's just getting old, thats all. You swear every other sentence. And when you abuse words like that as much as you do..." You raise an eyebrow at him, a small mischievous smile playing on your lips, "...you lose all your power."

All expressions of superiority and confidence fell from his face. He never looked at it like that before... But now that you say it, he's thinking you might be right. 

No way he's admitting _that_ though.

"that shit ain't true." He shifts in his boots, giving the grass in front of him the staredown of a lifetime, "some fuckin' know-it-all."

"You wanna fucking bet?" You say, turning to him, **"Don't fucking swear."**

For a brief moment Sans thought he was being pulled into battle, because his soul felt like it nearly leaped out of his chest at those vulgar words leaving your mouth. You were giving him a dead serious look, and for a while he blankly stared back.

Then you both burst out laughing.

"h-holy-- the irony is too much!" Sans gasps for air, "i'm-- i dont know what i was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that."

"Right?" You snort, "It's so much better when it's spontaneous! It feels so much better to say, and the people around you freak out."

"whoa, whoa there." He sighs and cocks his head at you, "i wasn't agreeing with you."

"What? The fuck are you saying then? You gotta admit that was pretty intense." You grip your gut, calming yourself down.

"whoa babygirl, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" He mocks you, and your face flushes red. Huh. He really likes that color.

"i'm just sayin' that i don't quite believe you. i might need some more examples... might take a whole night." You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off, "wanna go to a bar? maybe teach me a few things about being... _intense?_ "

As Sans spoke he edged closer, looming over you with a sly grin spread wide on this features. Now, you weren't really one to get flustered, certainly not by a skeleton, but this... This is a little more difficult to stomach than the average pickup line.

"Uh, sure I... I guess!" You say brightly, trying to get your bearings, "I highly doubt I'll be teaching you, per say, but I've never said no to a couple shots."

Satisfied, Sans leans back and you release a breath you didnt know you were holding. A few seconds pass where neither of you say anything. Just before Sans wonders if there's sexual tension or if it's just him, you break the silence.

"So! What bar are you thinking of? I know a few good joints downtown with some--"

"actually," he interrupts, frustrated at his incompetence to read you, "i'm a regular at this place called grillby's. great place. i know the bartender, so i get a special deal..."

Sans pauses. You look... The only word to describe it is conflicted. Like a shadow has crossed your face. He didn't know you could make such an expression.

"you ever been to grillz?" He asks, curious. You seem to snap out of your daze and flash him your usual smile.

"Oh, sorry. I was spacing out." You chuckle, "Nope, I've never been there. Sounds good though!"

"what does that mean?" He leans down and is almost nose to nose with you. He narrows his eyes disbelievingly at you. You, however, just take a step back and brush it off.

"What do you mean what does it mean?" You laugh at him, and in turn he rolls his eyes at you and stands up. 

"f'rget it." He huffs, taking out a packet of cigarettes and popping one between his teeth. You eye him warily and he catches your gaze. Then he holds out the packet.

"wan' one?" He asks. You put your hand up and shake your head.

"I'm not interested in a relapse, but thanks."

"so you were a fellow addict once. what other secrets to you hold, babe?" Sans pockets the cigarettes and pulls out his lighter with a smirk.

"Oh jeez... Chara! Use your words! Use. Your. Words!" You run away to take care of Chara (who is using their fists), leaving Sans with his newly lit cigarette hanging out his mouth to watch your retreating figure.

He notices your hips' natural swing as you run.

He notices your hair move in sync with your strides.

He notices that his original goal was to get you in bed, and yet somehow he ended up inviting you to his favorite bar.

He takes a drag from his cigarette.

Whatever. He prefers sex at night anyways. He'll just have to wait.

He turns away and saunters in the direction of his apartment.

_i'll wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rarely feel good about my writing, but I'm super happy with this chapter. I hope you liked it!
> 
>  ***
> 
> Hey guys! Quick question? If you were to name this character, what would it be? I'm making her into an OC.
> 
> Don't you worry your pretty little face, I'm still keeping my fics self-insert ❤
> 
> I'm leaning towards Alex or Rose. What do you think?


	7. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I wrote a little segment because it's either this or I write a hellishly long chapter for the bar scene. Hope you like it! *immediately starts on the next chapter*

You slam your door open, the light from the hallway casting an eerie glow on your messy room. Leaning on the doorway, you flick the lightswitch and step in, careful not to trip in your half-asleep state. It wasn't even eight o'clock yet, but today's workload is really getting to you...

_Yawwwwwn..._

"Hoo, boy." You say as you grab your face and widen your eyes, trying to keep yourself up. You amble over to your bed, dropping a box of pastries and your messenger bag, then flop onto the mattress. Alright, quick mental reassessment:

_I got a part-time babysitting job at the Dreemurr estate. Toriel and I haven't agreed on wage. We've adjusted the times to my schedule._

_I need to remind Muffet to split tips with Burgerpants. He may have been doing a favor, but it looked like that poor guy could use a drink._

_I need to restock the pantry at the bakery. God knows how many supplies we expended._

_I need to go buy more groceries. Maybe purchase a vegetable for a change._

_**Oh shit.** _

You sit straight up.

**_I'm going out with Sans tonight._ **

A cold feeling settles in your gut when you realize: You swapped numbers with him. You gave an angry, impatient skeleton a means to contact you, and chances are he has. And you haven't responded. You scramble to get off your bed, nearly repeating your mistake a few mornings ago and falling to the floor.

You grab your messenger bag and dig out your phone. Two unread messages from an unknown number.

**[ Unknown 6:22 PM ]**

**sans here. when can i pick you up**

  


**[ Unknown 6:22 PM ]**

**i dunno bout you, but i'm gonna get hella wasted tonight. ya might have to carry me home...**

**please be gentle, sweetcheeks.**

  


You snort at the thought of carrying Sans _anywhere_. He sent this about an hour ago, So you figure it's about time you responded:

  


**[ Me, probably. - 7:09 PM ]**  


**Hey! Just off work. I'm thinking of heading out around 8. That good?**

**[ Me, probably. - 7:09 PM ]**  


**And if I'm carrying you home, I certainly won't be gentle. There will be wheelbarrows and humiliation so good luck**

Your phone buzzes immediately after you sent the second text.

**[ Sir Skeleton Man - 7:10 PM ]**  


**jesus, you take forfuckingever to text back.**

**[ Sir Skeleton Man - 7:10 PM ]**  


**i'll pick you up at 8. wear something pretty. leave the wheelbarrow at home.**

**[ Me, probably. - 7:10 PM ]**  


**I'll do what I want ✌**

You toss your phone aside and get up, stretching your arms a bit. You were just about to take off your uniform when your door creaks open.

"Hey (Y/N), I heard you in the hallway... You got--" To your horror, your very exhaused-looking neighbor saunters into your room like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Peter!" You squeal, startling him with your tone, "You can't just _come in here_ without permission!"

Peter blinks.

"Why." He says it more like a statement than a question.

"Why?! Why." You laugh disbelievingly, "I shouldn't have to explain this. It's just standard etiquette!"

"Whatever." He shrugs, nudging aside a pile of clothes with his foot and coming towards you.

"What was I here for again..." He mumbles while he absently looks around the room, "Oh right. I need more ibuprofen... Oooo, are those pastries?"

"Uh, yeah. You can have a couple. I brought extras just in case." You nod, going to the bathroom cabinet for the painkillers. He really needs to tone it down... All the drugs and alcohol are going to destroy his liver...

You turn around with the ibuprofen in hand, see that Peter has discovered your small stash of liquor, and is now opening a bottle of your nicest European vodka. Your eyes widen.

"PETER. PETER PUT IT DOWN."

"This is a really nice brand."

"PETER NO."

"Peter yes."

"GIVE IT."

"'Dun wanna."

"I SWEAR TO GOD-- PETER!!"

***

8:10 PM.

Peter is sober and out of your apartment.

You change into your [I-totally-didn't-get-sidetracked-and-not-have-enough-time-to-get-ready outfit](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/45/f2/cd/45f2cd40c6e29c8aa052c3649336db2d.jpg) and pray to whatever deity there might be that Sans hasn't been waiting. You know the kind of person he is. With every second of his time someone wastes, he gets increasingly irritated.

Better not piss him off.

You put your hair up in a messy bun, grab your messenger bag and a grey beanie just for good measure. Not bothering to fix the flyaways in your hair, you throw on a jean jacket, slip on some black tie-up boots and rush out the door.

It's 8:20.

You whip out your phone as you're jogging through the hall, checking your notifications.

Seven new messages.

You pick up the pace a little bit.

You run out of your apartment lobby and onto the sidewalk. The sky is a dusty periwinkle with a tint of pink, marking the arrival of dusk. You walk into the street and you're just about to text Sans back when you see him across the road. He's standing in the flickering yellow light of a streetlamp, looking at his phone. He's giving off this... Dark feeling. He's dragging his cigarette like it's the end of the world and his face is contorted with anxiety. But as soon as he looks up and sees you, it's gone. Did you imagine it?

"H-hey..." You wave at him meekly, "Sorry I'm late."

"your thumbs better be broken or some shit 'cuz that's the only reason i'll accept for waiting for you to fucking **text back.** " he growls, stubbing his cigarette into the lamp post. You laugh awkwardly, frozen in place as Sans trudges over to you.

"This is going to disappoint you, but my thumbs are fine. I just..." You sigh tiredly, "Had to take care of something. I'm really sorry."

"that's not an excuse. just fucking text back." He digs his hands in his pockets and glares at you. You put your hands up in your defense.

"Okay man, I said I'm sorry. Why are you so angry?" You frown. This meetup is off to a wonderful start.

"because i have no idea what's happening if you don't say anything!!" He shouts, "you could've been kidnapped or mugged, hell, you're so fucking small you could've been blown away by the wind for all i know!!"

Oh my god.

This is ridiculous.

And what makes this worse is that you can't laugh, because he is dead fucking serious with you. 

"So..." You bite your lip, trying not to smile, "In short, you were worried?"

His face blanched. You didn't think it was possible for him to look any whiter than he does now, but there you go.

"of course not." He splutters quickly, "just think of how much shit i'd get into if something happened to you! i mean, look at me!"

He gestures at himself like he's the freakiest thing to ever live on planet earth, and this time you couldn't hold back your giggles.

"why're you laughing? it's not funny." He says indignantly, a very faint blush appearing on his cheekbones.

"Sorry! Sorry! It's just--"

"don't apologize."

"Sorry. Wait, ugh sorry. No..."

"shut the fuck up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader never bothered to wonder how he got her address ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Author's Note:**

> [ **Official Song: Idfc - Blackbear** ](https://youtu.be/2MTwzhmIrJM)
> 
> Reader's Songlist:  
> [Young God - Halsey](https://youtu.be/bUhJRQSs6UQ)  
> [Bad Habit - The Kooks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tUh-x-fp8Q)  
> [Don't Leave Me (Ne Me Quitte Pas) - Regina Spektor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWXWivwhi14)
> 
>    
> Sans' Songlist:  
> [Somebody Else - The 1975](https://youtu.be/J89AMZs0pT0)  
> [Two More Minutes - Jaymes Young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBjvy_Mxvrw)  
> [Snap Out of It - Arctic Monkeys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivoomH872SU)  
>    
> [ _Beware of the Man Who Speaks In Hands_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ)
> 
> [ _Gaster's song: Worship - Brandyn Burnette_ ](https://youtu.be/ZwOfQ8gIkK0)
> 
> ***
> 
> [My Separate Tumblr For Fanfics!](http://bugishere.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  [My Main Blog: Where you can message me, ask me, art me, spam me... I love it all.](http://gettingwhatigive.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  [Follow Me On Twitter For Updates: My life is just as boring as you think it would be!](https://twitter.com/getwhatigive)


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